


When Things Fall Into Place

by stuckinastory



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Old Fic, finally sharing my stuff from LJ to AO3, we're going all the way back to 2007 for this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23246971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckinastory/pseuds/stuckinastory
Summary: Andy's a teacher. Miranda's still at Runway. The twins are awfully nice. Sounds like a recipe for a romcom.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Comments: 9
Kudos: 224





	1. Chapter 1

Andrea Sachs was running late for her job. It was her first year of teaching at Dalton and despite the fact that she had gotten along well with the faculty, the parents, and her students, she still wasn’t as comfortable as she’d love to be during the mornings. She was cruising the streets with her navy blue Vespa scooter—with a plate saying “ANDY” in blue letters—a gift from her father during her 21st birthday when she moved to New York. The children at Dalton had taken a look at it a few times and have expressed respect and admiration for it explicitly. Sometimes, she would take a student or two for a ride around to the campus, much to their own enjoyment.

Those were the times when she was grateful that Dalton wasn’t as strict as she had imagined it to be. It was, on the other hand, the high-class private school that she had imagined, with first-class facilities rivaling four-star hotels. Her colleagues were very helpful, giving her a lot of background info about the school in general. Within her first month, she was up to speed with school events. She was earning a lot from teaching and she adored her class. It was a simple yet remarkably satisfying life. No late hours. No complications. No abusive bosses. Just her and her independent self.

She parked her scooter just outside the school’s rarely used fifth gate. Just as she parked it, a black Mercedes sedan bumped the right side of her scooter, causing it to fall down on her. The driver and two identical looking girls jumped out of the car to help her. An older, silver-haired woman slowly got out of the car.

“I’m sorry miss.” The man said, getting her scooter out of the way. The girls looked at their mother and upon seeing the silver-haired woman nod, the girls helped her up. Then the identical looking girls looked at her with a flash of recognition.

“Ms. Sachs!” One of the girls said.

Andy looked at the girl and smiled. Her sister smiled at her as well.

“Hey girls. What a way to start our morning.” Andy replied, grinning.

“We’re really sorry. Are you alright?” The other girl asked.

“I’m fine, Cassidy. It’s nothing serious.”

Her first encounter of the morning would be with none other than the Priestly twins, two of the esteemed members of her class. Red-haired, talented, and unrealistically witty, the girls had a reputation for being sarcastic that Andy had to work with their mood swings and their bouts of rudeness. However, after six months of being with them, and countless of lessons, talks, and free time together, the girls had warmed up to her.

She and the other subject teachers noticed the change in the twins, which according to Mrs. Heathrow, the principal, was remarkable, considering the fact that their mother divorced her second husband two years ago. They began performing well. They were nicer. Andy saw a lot of good things in them, chiefly their capability for sympathy and their talents.

The silver-haired woman looked at her with some interest. _Why, of course_. This was the person the faculty would sometimes buzz about. _Miranda Priestly, in the flesh_. Andy nodded slightly to her and then recovered from her accident. She and the driver help checked the scooter for any defects. Andy heaved a sigh of relief when she found none, except for the obvious dent. Miranda Priestly was tapping a foot impatiently.

The driver didn’t know what to do.

Andy decided it was the best time to take charge. “I’ll take the girls from here. Caroline, Cassidy, get your bags. You get to ride with me today.” She said, starting up her scooter. The girls ran to the trunk and followed her instruction to the letter.

Miranda Priestly showed her shock on a more subtle level. She didn’t know what to make out of this situation. No one made her children that enthusiastic about anything, except their father. No one gave them instructions they had to follow, except for her.

“Roy,” Caroline Priestly said, motioning to the driver, “It’s okay. You can drive Mom to Elias-Clarke. She’s going to be late.”

Andy handed over helmets to the girls, who wore them like veterans.

“Girls, I don’t suppose we could go forth with this arrangement. That scooter might have damage that might have gone unchecked. I would rather be late for work than have your lives in jeopardy.” Miranda said, her voice concerned and deadly serious.

“Mom, you have a lot of other things to worry about.” Cassidy Priestly replied.

Andy had heard so many things that have happened to people who tried to slight Miranda, those who have tried to answer back to her, those who have tried to offer a suggestion instead of what she wanted. She often wondered if she was really that bad. This seemed like a golden opportunity to test that theory.

“Ms. Priestly, I can assure you of your children’s safety. I don’t drive my scooter like a mad man. They’ll be late if they don’t come with me.” Andy interjected.

“Roy,” Miranda Priestly said, turning to her driver slightly, “just a minute.”

“Yes ma’am.” The driver—Roy—answered, getting into the driver’s seat and maneuvering the car towards the street.

Miranda Priestly walked over to Andy and pulled her out of her children’s reach and hearing. “If anything happens to my girls, be it a slight bruise or a small wound, I will personally see to it that you will never be able to set foot in this country or in any country where _Runway_ is circulated, do you understand?”

The theory was true, then.

Andy nodded.

Miranda walked back to her girls, gave them a hug and a kiss on their foreheads, and Roy pulled up to her. A small cool breeze started to pick up. The girls waved to the car and then got on the scooter. Andy grinned at them and she drove to the girls’ building. The girls were giggling with glee, obviously enjoying themselves.

The girls miraculously got off her scooter safe and sound. The rest of Dalton looked at them like they had seen a ghost and the faculty members were surprised, to say the least. The twins removed their helmets and muttered a quick “Thanks” before they ran off to their first class. Nancy, one of Andy’s fellow teachers, went up to her with an incredulous and impressed big grin on her face as Andy parked her scooter. They were walking through the halls together, books in hand.

“You’re wearing DKNY, do you know that?” Nancy asked.

“I’ve been quite aware, thanks.” Andy replied, smiling.

“The Priestly twins? They’re chauffeured to school _every single day_.”

“Their driver bumped my scooter, it fell on me, and then the girls told their mother that she was running late for work so I offered to take them to their first class, which is by the way, your music class.”

“I know that,” Nancy said, and the penny dropped. “You _saw_ Miranda Priestly?”

“Yeah. It’s not like she’s Haley’s comet, appearing once every few decades or so. She must take the twins to school everyday.” Andy said, matter-of-factly.

“You don’t read _Runway_ , do you?” Nancy shot an eyebrow at her.

“I do… but I’m not a fan.”

“I don’t believe this. You dress well, but you _barely_ read the modern woman’s fashion bible. What do you rely on, luck? You’re the twins’ class adviser!”

“Maybe a little luck, but mostly I rely on my God-given beauty.”

Nancy snorted a bit and rolled her eyes. Andy laughed a bit. “Whatever. Do you know what their last adviser did just to please Miranda?”

Andy shrugged to ask “What?”

“She had a liposuction and got a facial weekly. Got the rest of her overhauled.”

“That’s overkill.” Andy said, shaking her head.

“Believe it. She got so pretty the woman recommended her to work for another fashion magazine.” Nancy said, as they stopped in front of the music room’s door. “My first class. Have a good morning, Andy.”

“You too, Nancy.”

They parted ways and Andy entered her first class on the second floor, still shaking her head in disbelief. Miranda Priestly. Was she really someone to be feared? Or was it everyone else’s imagination? The girls seemed nice enough.

The threat was not to be taken seriously. The woman just seemed overprotective, but whose mother wouldn’t be? The girls had a famous mother, she was probably just shielding them from the unnecessary (and not to mention sometimes disgraceful) publicity.

What the heck was she doing, anyway, thinking about Miranda Priestly like that? She was in good terms with the woman’s children, but she had no business busying her mind with things regarding her student’s parents. This was completely inappropriate.

But surprisingly nice. Warm. Familiar.

Like the first time she met her first boyfriend.

She decided that this whole thinking thing with Miranda Priestly swimming in her head would remain for this day only, just because of the accident. It would be gone tomorrow. This was what she got for staying up late to check on her class’ papers when it could have waited for another day. She was just making things up.

Maybe she would come to the parent-teacher conference at Dalton next month.

_This has got to stop_ , Andy thought firmly, _I can’t go on thinking about Miranda Priestly, of all things_. _The twins are okay, and I won’t need to move to Barbados and work the rest of my life as a waiter in a bar_. _I have a good life_.

“Ms. Sachs?” A student called out. She jumped out of the reverie. The students stopped playing on their recorders and looked up at her expectantly. She was extremely grateful for having her train of thought stopped before it got any worse.

“Yeah?” Then she reminded herself of what to do next. “Oh, right. Turn your books to page 50. I think we can give Mozart a try today. Just a little something before we write.”

Emily Charlton got a weird text message from Roy this morning. Miranda was going to be early. As in ridiculously early. All because, according to Roy, the twins decided to hop on to a teacher’s scooter to go to school and let Roy drive Miranda to Elias-Clarke. She usually didn’t have time to think about these things about Miranda that drove the rest of the people within three feet of her crazy. There were demands that Miranda made that had to be fulfilled if you wanted to remain alive for the rest of the day. She threw the San Pellegrino bottle in the trash can in the kitchen and shook her head. She got the pile of magazines and laid them, _exactly_ one inch apart, on Miranda’s table. She ran to the bathroom and took the extra precaution of not drinking anything. The other assistant, Tracy, took her break a few minutes later, and had Miranda’s scalding Starbucks on the table. It would take six minutes before it became undrinkable.

First of all, the twins were nice enough to do that? And she, Emily Charlton, will be promoted and become Runway’s new editor-in-chief. Yeah right.

Second of all, Miranda would never hesitate to come in late.

And third of all, Miranda was already in the building, so she should stop thinking about her, thank you very much. Emily ran hurriedly to the hallway near the elevator, ready for her idol’s expected arrival, holding a pad of paper and the woman’s schedule.

Minutes later, the woman materialized and barked her numerous demands to Emily, not even caring that Emily wore Prada to work today.

“Remind my ex-husband that the parent-teacher conference is at Dalton tonight.”

Emily debated whether she should interrupt. She stopped following Miranda and ran after her against her better judgment, writing the missed demands down. She decided that she had better call the shots before Miranda finds out that her husband couldn’t come and before she could create hell on earth for the third time that week.

Before the twins get disappointed and Miranda unleashes chaos and havoc on the Elias-Clarke building. Before she gets punished for her incompetence and be sent to exile into some no-name, no-life, and no- _Runway_ country where she wouldn’t be able to find work.

“Miranda, your ex-husband called two hours earlier and said he wouldn’t be able to come tonight.”

“Fine. Call the twins’ adviser and inform her that I would be arriving late, most probably around nine. Move my meetings with James Holt, Donatella, and Tyra a week after this one, and make sure that you can call Richard and tell him that the twins want to see him. Call Tyra and tell her for the twentieth time, no, I will not guest judge on that insipid reality show of hers, and no, I will not guest on her talk show, either. Call Heidi and tell her that I’m considering her offer to guest judge on her show. Move the preview with Michael Knight to today at four. Tell Nigel to bring me the proofs from last month’s shoot in Nice. Call Jocelyn and tell her that the proposed shoot in Lima is uninspired and completely inadequate, and remind her that I won’t be tolerating her incompetence any longer. Bring me the latest report from accounting five minutes from this conversation. Call Irv’s secretary and schedule a phone meeting. That’s all.”

How many words did that take? Ten thousand every morning? Emily scurried to her desk and shared the tasks with Tracy. They divided the phone calls, while Emily got ready for what seemed to be the hundredth run-through for the week. Nobody was getting anything right and she and Tracy missed lunches practically every day of this week. She loved her job, but there was only so much. She came to the conclusion that there was a lot of truth in “Thank God it’s Friday”.

“Hey, Emily, are you okay?” Tracy asked.

“I’m _trying_ to be fine. I have a date tonight.”

“Take a bathroom break. I’ll be fine.”

Emily sighed and smiled at the girl. As long as there were nice people around her, Miranda Priestly could beat her up, over and over again, and give her the same shitty pay that she had. All she wanted was this opportunity. But the free clothes don’t hurt, either. 


	2. The Parent-Teacher Conference Is At Dalton Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after the meet-cute?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The references are really dated and I did not want to update them. Consider it a time machine. I made minor edits to this one for parts that I felt could use a bit of an update. 
> 
> If any LJ-aged folks are here, hi. I'm themoviegeekstrikesback, also known as cannonball_312 on LJ.

Andrea Sachs made sure that she looked especially good today. Tonight was the parent-teacher conference, after all, and Nancy had all but pasted a note on her head about picking a good outfit so she could look passable in Miranda Priestly’s presence. She didn’t know why, but she relied on her woman’s intuition, and bought something new for the occasion. She wore an old Dior outfit ( _vintage_ , Nancy corrected her) that she fished out unexpectedly from a clearance bin. The faculty members were praising her for her well-chosen number and even the normally uncaring Science teacher, Don Matthews, attempted to make a pass at her. It was a good sign.

The twins were cooperative today, she noticed. There must be something that was going to happen. A birthday, maybe. Or an out-of-town trip. Maybe a relative was coming to town. She didn’t know what exactly thrilled her filthy rich students, but she was sure that even the middle-class kinds of things that made her happy would suffice. They were working extra hard, Caroline drawing and coloring more characters and more backgrounds as Cassidy read from her writings. Andy thought that the girls could make a formidable movie-making team, like the Wachowski brothers, or the Coen brothers, or the Wilson brothers. They had these visions and this idea of aesthetics that she had been talking about for a good part of the school year. She was growing very fond, and in this particular moment, very proud of them, especially when they presented their concept of a TV show featuring teenagers who would be locked in a school for three months and would be made to face off against each other for a million dollars. Andy and the twins’ classmates thought that it was “Big Brother” meets “Mean Girls” meets “Kid Nation”.

It wasn’t a surprise then when the girls sat with her at lunch like they did on some days, and they were glowing, twinkle in their eyes and smiles all around them, that Mrs. Heathrow, the school principal, wondered if she was looking at the right pair of twins. The girls were carrying trays of sandwiches, cups of juice, and packs of potato chips, the last one possibly being the most heinous item on their trays. Andy would have thought that they had been doing this thing for a long time, if not for the students looking at her oddly. The girls were impressed by her outfit.

“My goodness, Ms. Sachs. Vintage Dior… where’d you find it?” Cassidy said, ogling at her. Andy felt proud and giggled a bit, to the girls’ delight.

“At a favorite haunt.”

“Mom will like it. She has one like that, only in black.” Caroline added, looking at her sister to make sure. Cassidy nodded.

“We’ve really enjoyed your class so much.” Cassidy muttered, a little sheepish.

“It shows. I’m really proud of you girls.” Andy said, taking a sip of her soda. 

She smiled at them and they returned the favor. A few months ago she would have been skeptical, and would have returned the statement with a, “So what are you up to?”, but one of the things she learned when dealing with the twins is that they ask for and about simple things, contrary to what some people would believe.

“We’re serious about this,” Caroline said, in a tone that Andy realized left no room for objections, “I think I have a talent for drawing, and I think Cassie has a knack for writing really good stuff.”

“I’m sure your mom and dad will be delighted to hear that.”

“Do you think I write well and Caro draws well?” Cassidy asked, eyes inquiring.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” Andy beamed confidently.

The girls’ eyes shone brighter than before. Andy could almost grasp their happiness.

“Mom’s attending the parent-teacher conference tonight,” Caroline now began, trying to find a way not to sound too excited, “She’s noticed how happy we seem to be when we come home from school, and she seems interested in finding out more about our classes. She’s also very interested in getting to know you better.”

“Me? How could I possibly be of interest to her?” Andy blurted, nearly choking on her sandwich. The girls looked concerned for a second, until Andy waved them off.

“Well, we have been talking about your composition class. She thinks our enthusiasm’s gotten out of control and she wants to know exactly why we’re so interested.” Cassidy continued.

“Considering that you’ve never been interested in a class before, according to your former teachers.” Andy replied flippantly, causing the girls to pretend to wince.

“Ouch. Great clothes make you evil, Ms. Sachs.” Caroline said, and the three of them laughed it off. Andy always thought that times like these made teaching the best job in the world. Her work with the Priestly twins was paying off. Then it hit her.

Miranda Priestly wants to meet her. Her. The person who had caused the twins to become so prepped up for a class when nobody else thought it was possible. Her. The decently dressed woman would read _Runway_ but never really became a fan. Her.

The Harvard Law School prospect who passed the exam but went to become a teacher. Her.

The freelancing writer who wrote her poems, stories and articles in between classes.

Why she’d love to, of course, but she couldn’t very well say, “Ms. Priestly, I’ve been thinking about you every time I read something about fashion.”

“Your mom’s coming? What happened to your dad?” Andy managed to ask.

“Dad’s in China, shooting pictures for his coffee table book.” Cassidy replied.

“We’re surprised Mom even promised to come, anyway,” Caroline intervened.

“Why?”

“Well, the last time she attended one these things, we were in pre-school,” Cassidy said, waving her sandwich off.

“She doesn’t like these kinds of things.” Caroline said.

“I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear more about you,” Andy concluded, and to her relief, the twins agreed.

Nine hours later, the girls and Andy were cooped up in their classroom, which at this point in time, was a museum for the class’ work during this quarter. Andy’s class had turned in substantially excellent work, winning contest after contest, and the impressed class advisers had taken to envying her when they got the chance. Mrs. Heathrow was particularly impressed with how Andy clicked with the kids, even the seemingly indifferent ones; the ones the teachers said had “issues”. Like the Priestly twins. What Andy didn’t get was the reason why the faculty members were so impressed with her. It wasn’t like she stumbled on a formula or something. It was more like understanding them and reaching out to them, something that the teachers did, but not in the right way. They were always pushing for immediate results. Always something, now.

Andy knew it wasn’t like that with kids.

The girls were listening to her, as she told stories of her college adventures in Northwestern, of how she managed to stay that far from her parents, of how she managed to cope with long winters having nothing but cans upon cans of Campbell’s soup. Of how her roommates took care of each other. Of how they did homework together. Of how they waited for the last one to come home before they ate dinner. She told them about how she coped with her parents’ divorce, something which had shocked the twins when they heard of it. She basically spilled her life in front of her receptive audience, _this_ pair of twins.

“…And so I learned about it from them, and they always said that it wasn’t my fault, that Mommy and Daddy just had these differences that they couldn’t work out between themselves anymore.”

Caroline sighed. Her sister was listening, genuinely interested, like there was something to be gained out of this. She personally thought Ms. Sachs was the best teacher that she and Cassidy had since pre-school (and she was sure Cassidy thought of Ms. Sachs in the same way), but there was no way that she was buying this sympathy thing that the woman was pulling off. Besides, the newspapers mourned for them two years ago, and their mother had never stopped reassuring them since.

“I don’t believe this.” Caroline blurted out.

“You don’t believe what?” Andy asked, curious. Cassidy knew what her sister was thinking, and she shook her head.

“Your parents divorced. I’ve heard this speech before.”

“Caroline, let’s not be rude.” Cassidy interjected, slightly annoyed. True story or not, she didn’t care about Ms. Sachs having divorced parents. What she cared about was how she worked her way around it and became the favorite teacher that she had right now. And she was sure that Ms. Sachs would not appreciate this kind of backtalking to her, after all the months she spent making them comfortable and content in class.

“I’m not.” Caroline shot back.

“So cut this out. I know what you’re thinking.” Cassidy said, and she gave her sister what seemed like a well-rehearsed glare. Caroline kept quiet.

Andy watched the girls, slightly confused. “Alright. Enough of this. Enough about me.” Andy said.

Just then, like a big sigh of relief, Miranda Priestly entered the door to her children’s classroom. Andy stood up promptly, and watched the girls engulf their mother in a hug and kisses to her cheek. Miranda kissed and hugged them back, happy about the fact that her daughters didn’t make a fuss about her tardiness. Then she looked at Andy.

_Wasn’t this the woman that got hit by her car just a month ago? She looked good in her Dior outfit_ , Miranda thought. _She looked absolutely beautiful. She could work for Runway, if she continued dressing up this way_. _Finally this academic institution gets something right_. She nodded at the woman, the remains of a smile still on her lips after the children’s show of affection. Andy smiled back. The girls led her by hand and led her to the direction of the woman’s desk.

“Ms. Priestly,” the woman said, extending her hand, “how nice of you to come. Please sit down. I’m Andrea Sachs, the twins’ adviser.”

Miranda nodded and sat down.

“Mom, this is Ms. Sachs,” Cassidy said, “She graduated magna cum laude from Northwestern, she was a college journalist, and she’s also our composition class teacher.”  
  


Miranda’s eyes widened in recognition. _Oh. This was her._

“Mom?” Caroline asked. “We’ll be in the car.”

“Of course, dear.” Miranda said, kissing the girls on their foreheads before they left, “Off you go. Roy’s waiting outside the building.”

“Okay.” The twins chimed and ran off from the classroom, but not before giving Andy a wave and a quick “Bye, Ms. Sachs!”

Andy couldn’t help but grin. They were so far off from the sarcastic, impossible-to-work-with children that she met a few months before. They were blooming into smart, charming, and talented young ladies who had a good sense of style. She took out a brown envelope and handed the twins’ cards over to Miranda, who looked at them with great interest. Andy opened her desk drawer and then took out another envelope, marked with the twins’ names and gave it to her. Miranda Priestly looked surprised to receive the second, larger envelope.

“What is this?” Miranda asked, cool as you please.

“Oh. It’s the twins’ work for the quarter for my composition class.”

“Your composition class seems to be quite interesting. I have heard a lot about this particular class of yours. What is it exactly that you do with these children?”

“Well, I’ve been using a more practical approach to connect with them. I’ve been taking them to exposure trips, exposing them to classical and contemporary music, and I have been reading Shakespeare to them every once in a while. The children also have had experience in creating productions for their writings. It works for the kids.” Andy replied.

“Shakespeare. Isn’t the Bard a little out-of-fashion?” Miranda asked. “Too passe? Should I be worried that Dalton has subjected my bobbsies to Romeo and Juliet?”

“Quite the contrary, Ms. Priestly. The Bard remains in best shape.” Andy answers smoothly. “And no, certainly no Romeo and Juliet.”

“The girls have been abuzz with this class. It just baffles me as to how one class can excite them so much. I believe I haven’t seen this particular phenomenon before.”

_Phenomenon_ , Andy thinks. _More like a fashion fad to her_. 

“I’m pleased with their improvement. Their other subject teachers have noticed the change and the girls’ grades are higher this quarter.” Andy replied.

Miranda opens the envelope and takes a few minutes reading Cassidy and Caroline’s writings, looking at Caroline’s drawings and Caroline’s poems and stories. She is overwhelmed, if it is possible, by how talented her children are. Then she looks at Andy and is suddenly glad that she had inspired the children to produce all these things. Caroline has a way with color that Miranda cannot fully define. Cassidy has different view on perspective. Their collective works were similar to the synergy of two designers, except that in this case, the artists were her own children.

The twins have been telling her all about this class, all about their teacher, about how they were being taught things that excited them to no end. No wonder.

“These are wonderful.” Miranda said, the joy barely concealed in her voice.

Andy beams proudly, as if she were the parent.

“Caroline is a spitfire, to say the least. She is a great artist and has this eye for detail, color and vividness. She’s quite fond of using figures of speech and she knows a good scene when she sees one. Cassidy, on the other hand, is definitely a budding writer. She possesses this extraordinary imagination. She has a million scenes, a million people, and a million ideas in her brain. She has an eye for aesthetics and knows how to position words and phrases so they’ll look better. She has a rhythm. And the girls do know how to tap into their talents.”

“Maybe that’s the reason why they like you and they enjoy this class, Ms. Sachs,” Miranda replied conclusively. “They like being listened to, being treated just the way as anybody else, not as children to be condescended to.”

Andy kept her lip tight to keep herself from grinning like a fool. “Somehow, I knew that to be true. And please, Ms. Priestly, feel free to call me Andrea. Or Andy, whichever you may prefer.”

_Andrea._ Miranda went over the name in her head and loved how it sounded.

“Then call me Miranda.” She heard herself saying. Andy nodded. “I’ve forgotten my manners, Andrea, and I believe I do have to apologize for something.”

Apologize? What for? Andy furrowed her brow in confusion.

Then she realized she said that out loud. _Shit_.

“I believe I have not apologized for my tardiness.” Miranda remarked.

Andy waved the woman off. “It’s not a problem. Your assistant has called to inform me about your time of arrival. The twins looked positively ecstatic that you could come.”

“Oh, but there is another thing I have to apologize for. I should not have threatened you that day when you offered to take my children on your scooter. I believe my threat was uncalled for, not to mention, impudent. After all, my car caused your scooter to fall down on you.” Miranda remarked.

Andy blushed lightly at the memory. “It’s alright.”

Miranda debated with something inside her for a moment, and then handed Andy a calling card. It had her name, her address, and her private phone line on a delicate customized piece of stationery and Andy immediately placed it inside her wallet. She saw the woman look at her as she did so.

“Thank you, Miranda.” Andy said, trying to sound professional.

“If you ever decide to move on and leave Dalton, I can offer you a vacancy in _Runway_. My children’s improved grades speak a lot about your skills, and their unbridled enthusiasm for your class indicates that you have done a lot of work with them and have accomplished a lot. I have never seen my girls so happy before.”

“Thank you for your offer. It will be under consideration. I’ve grown fond of teaching and of this class. The girls are very dear to me, and if you would continue to choose Dalton as their foundation for their education, I would be delighted to watch them grow.” Andy answered graciously.

Miranda stood up. Andy followed suit.

“It has been a charming evening, Andrea. I have been pleased to meet you.”

“Thank you. It was nice to see you, Miranda.”

They shook hands.

It was as pleasant as pleasant could get.


	3. An Accident, An Invitation, and a Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be kind to my 16 year old self who wrote this? Haha. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.

Andy was calling someone on her phone. Why wasn’t she picking it up?

A few minutes ago, Carl Maxwell had rushed to a classroom and pulled her out of the class in worry. Her class had their PE class at the hour, and one look at Carl’s face told her that the next bit of news that she was about to receive would not be pleasant.

Carl told her about Cassidy Priestly slipping on Dalton’s swimming pool and how she had broken an ankle and knocked herself out. He then went on to tell her about Caroline saving her sister while somebody called for 911. The only reason he was here, he explained, was because paramedics had taken both girls to the New York Presbyterian. Andy heaved a sigh of relief after everything and dismissed Carl and her current class.

The next thing she knew, she was running towards the faculty room with her cellphone, waiting for someone on the other line to pick it up.

Her frantic pace had alerted the faculty that something was wrong and when Ms. Simmons, one of the two Physical Education teachers, appeared to explain, Mrs. Heathrow gave Andy the rest of the day off. Andy was outside, putting the key into her scooter and strapping her helmet, when she heard a voice pick up. She nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Who is this?” A cold, icy voice answered from the other line.

“It’s Andy. Andrea Sachs. I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Priestly, but Cassidy has been in an accident. She slipped in the swimming pool and had knocked herself out.”

The breath on the other line hitched. “Where is she?”

“She’s at the New York Presbyterian, with Caroline.”

“I’ll be there.”

Miranda Priestly heard the roar of a vehicle.

“I’ll fetch you from your office. It will be faster that way.” Andy said, and then she hung up. Miranda was left with no other choice.

Miranda had nearly screamed at Emily to check up on the twins’ condition. Emily went back to her, saying that the girls were with a teacher, and Cassidy’s medical information had been forwarded by the school clinic to the hospital. She then left in a huff and found Andrea Sachs on her scooter, her hand extended and holding a helmet. Miranda wore it and for the first time, she didn’t mind getting her jeans wrinkled. Nor did she mind riding the scooter which she declared to be a “serious threat” to her children’s safety more than two months ago.

Andy never said another word until they arrived at the hospital room.

Upon entering Cassidy’s hospital room, Miranda glared at the teacher accompanying her twins and the man left in a hurry. Andy waited in the threshold before Miranda signaled that she could enter. Cassidy was in such a bad state. Her head was bandaged and she was lying, somewhat helplessly. Caroline locked the door and closed the blinds.

Miranda let a few tears leak as she stroked Cassidy’s head, wracked with guilt. She was sure that the school had called her ex-husband, and within minutes, he would be storming inside this hospital room and picking up the children.

“Are you alright?” Miranda asked Cassidy, and when she nodded, asked again. “What happened to you?”

“She slipped on the stairs down to the pool. She hit the wall and broke her ankle. She nearly drowned too.” Caroline explained.

“From what I heard, you saved your sister.” Andy added. Caroline managed a small and worried grin. Miranda looked at her and gave Caroline a pleased stare.

Cassidy looked up from her mother to the other person in the room sitting next to Caroline. She was mildly surprised, although she did remember Carl saying “I’ll tell Ms. Sachs!” before she completely drifted out of consciousness.

“Ms. Sachs, you’re missing the rest of the day?” Cassidy asked feebly.

“Yes. It’s alright, Cassidy. Mrs. Heathrow gave me the permission to tend to you for a while. You better get some rest.” Andy replied, giving the girl a reassuring smile.

Just then, a series of heavy knocks rattled the door. Caroline opened and she ran back after Richard Haverford entered the door. Andy had seen him a few times, as he was always the one who picked up the girls’ report cards and went to the parent-teacher conferences. He looked awful and obviously tired from his flight, but the sight of his weak and helpless daughter seemed to aggravate his condition and made him turn beet-red with rage. He barely acknowledged Andy’s presence and gave a weak pat to Caroline.

“Miranda, I can’t believe this.” He accused, spit flying from his mouth, “I fly out to get some work done, and suddenly I hear about an accident. I haven’t seen the girls for a month and this is what happens! You could at least take care of our children.”

The girls immediately blushed in shame. Andy sat in her chair, looking at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the planet. She was reminded of how her father had confronted her mother when she had an accident. She had been speeding with her bicycle when she got hit by a car and was thrown off her bike. She had a fractured her left arm and was bruised seriously. Her father had gone to the hospital and berated her already ashamed mother in front of Andy. She remembered fighting back to defend her mother and she remembered that it was the moment when she decided for herself that she should never hope that her parents would reconcile, ever.

“You are an irresponsible, inconsiderate and uncaring parent. If I had known that this would happen, I would have left the girls with my mother!” Richard Haverford bellowed, sending Miranda into a blush of suppressed fury. Andy knew she wasn’t fighting back because of her children. But this was getting way out of hand and Andy saw the girls’ eyes wet with tears. Caroline had even jumped to her mother’s side after her father had entered.

She couldn’t handle any of this much longer. She went up to Mr. Haverford and began to push him gently away from his ex-wife and children.

“Mr. Haverford, I think that’s enough.” Andy remarked firmly. “This was an accident.”

“You stay out of this! Your incompetent teachers and this irresponsible woman had gotten my child into this state. I will not tolerate this!” He said, pushing her aside.

“And I will not tolerate the way you’re speaking to me or to your ex-wife,” Andy shot back angrily, shocking everyone present in the room, “This had been an accident and Ms. Priestly doesn’t deserve your useless blame. I don’t deserve your useless blame. I suggest you get out of this room before I call security and have you out of here.”

Mr. Haverford looked at her and upon seeing his children’s eyes leak tears and refuse to look at him, he began to feel ashamed and left the room immediately. Andy locked the door. Caroline rushed to her and hugged her, crying softly in the process. Andy took the girl to the couch and let her cry there. Miranda watched Andy with something akin to shock and gratitude, while Cassidy mumbled a quick and soft “Thank you”. Andy, for her part, felt relieved that the episode had ended. She didn’t think one situation could happen to her twice in a lifetime.

“Andrea, I suppose we could leave. Richard needs to see his kids too.” Miranda said, resigned. She gave Cassidy a kiss on her forehead and hugged her tightly. Caroline broke off from Andy and hugged her mother as tightly as she could.

“Of-- of course.”

She opened the door and got out. Mr. Haverford had calmed himself down and was looking at her apologetically when she sat down on a bench outside the room. It took a while before he went up to her. “Ms. Sachs, I would like to apologize for my conduct. It had been uncalled for and it was completely unnecessary. It’s just… I was jetlagged and worried sick. I don’t know what I would do if the girls were harmed.” He muttered weakly.

“I’ve been in such a situation before, Mr. Haverford.” Andy answered.

Miranda was out of the room. No one noticed.

Richard Haverford looked at his feet. He felt extremely guilty.

“My parents were also divorced. My father blamed an accident I had on my mother. It was quite traumatic, and I was reminded of it when you had done something similar earlier. I suggest you apologize to your girls. That particular memory they have of you now would not be easily forgotten. Don’t worry about me.” Andy said.

Miranda was surprised by this revelation, but she was even more surprised by how Richard nodded meekly and entered the hospital room, as though he were a third-grader admonished by a principal. Andy stood up after he left and Miranda felt lost and unsure. She then remembered that she could call Roy, and she did, after which she followed Andy outside of the hospital.

Andy was about to ride her scooter when a hand held her wrist. She looked up and was surprised to see Miranda Priestly stop her.

“Thank you.” Miranda muttered weakly, almost mouthing the words.

“It’s alright. I just… I just didn’t want the same thing that happened to me to happen to the girls. I don’t think that it’d be good for them. It’s already a challenge when your parents are divorced, but to see even just one of them be willing to be so unpleasant to each other is… It’s not helpful.”

Roy pulled up and upon seeing the scooter, made the extra precaution not to bump the same scooter twice. Miranda got into the car and motioned Andy to follow the black Mercedes sedan. Andy followed with her scooter until she reached a townhouse. She watched as Roy maneuvered and left. Andy parked her scooter in front of the townhouse as Miranda opened the door. She got off and was unsure of what to do next.

“I don’t often repeat myself, Andrea, but it seems as though the invitation had not been as obvious as I thought it would be.” Miranda remarked rather coldly. Andy scampered and got in. She watched as the woman glided her way to the kitchen, Andy following her. Andy sat on a stool at the counter separating the living room from the dining area. She hadn’t even bothered to take in what she was seeing.

“Coffee, tea, or water?” Miranda asked, busying herself by taking out things from her cupboard. Her hands were shaking a bit. She refused to meet Andy’s eye.

“Water, please.” Andy replied. “Thank you.”

Miranda took out two glasses, placed them on a tray, and retrieved a pitcher from the refrigerator. Andy was sure as hell that her coworkers would roll over in shock at what was happening right now, but Andy made no thought of hyping up her current experience. Her subconscious dictated that this was something that she would never talk about with another living soul. Her heart told her that she was enjoying this experience.

“I’ve been looking at you.” Miranda said, as she brought the tray. As she reached for her glass, Andy did the same, and their hands brushed. Andy blushed a bright shade of red. _She’s been looking at me,_ Andy thought. _I hope she likes what she sees._ “I’m trying to decide if you’re real.”

Miranda went on and drank from her glass.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” Andy replied pointedly.

“I’ve never seen anyone care for the girls without caring whether they catch my attention by doing so. You’re great with them. You… have a way with my children.”

“They’re good kids. It’s not that hard to love them.”

“Not that hard to love them?” Miranda echoed. Andy only smiled helpfully.

Silence.

Miranda breaks the silence, after the tray had been placed in the sink, and the pitcher had been returned to its rightful place in the refrigerator.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

“So have I.” Andy blurted out. She wondered if Miranda Priestly was going to call up Dalton and have her fired immediately. Instead, Miranda looked at her with something akin to wonder and appreciation, a look she always gave to her children.

“I don’t understand why I do so, though. Perhaps it’s because of the girls.”

“Perhaps.”

“I have grown quite fond of you. There’s a twinkle in the girls’ eyes when they talk about you, about their class, and about their school days. You make them happy, more than I do.” Miranda rambled on wistfully. Andy’s heart aches for this woman, a mother who only wants to do right by her children. Andy reaches for her hand, tries to find the words to placate her.

“You do make them happy.” Andy says, and the conversation ends there.

Later that week, after Cassidy had gone home to recuperate, Andy is invited to the townhouse for dinner. For some reason, she isn’t surprised at this show of kindness from Miranda (the perennial Ice Queen, Nancy said, shaking her head after Andy told her about the invitation). Caroline excitedly ushers her in and Andy gets to watch Miranda Priestly, of all people, serve dinner. But she does it with such skill that Andy believes what the girls once told her about their mother being “an ordinary person, just with an extraordinary job”. Miranda nods at her and offers a little smile in greeting. Cassidy looks up from a book, gets up, and hugs Andy.

Cassidy then sits next to her sister and the four of them eat in silence, Andy occasionally puncturing the thin air with some question, or the girls asking questions of their own. The girls just glow in front of Miranda and because of the attention that they receive from Andy. Miranda watches all three of them, of course, but her mind is suddenly fixated on how Andrea has visited the girls and comforted them day in and day out. How Andrea had managed to be her children’s most intimate and well-liked mentor and confidante.

_This must be the reason why they like her_ , Miranda thinks. They just need someone who would be there for them and make them smile without any effort at all.

When the girls are asleep, she watches Andrea on the couch, like a child waiting for a parent. She has asked Andrea to stay and makes up an excuse about needing to talk about something regarding the children’s future. Andrea agrees anyway, knowing now that she is fully committed to and serious about such things. They talk for a while, small, parent-teacher talk.

She talks about her worries for the girls. Andrea reassures her, time and time again, and it is only a few minutes into their conversation that she realizes that she had allowed someone to repeat herself. That she had allowed someone to watch her, to watch her children. That she had allowed someone to be in their lives.

“I’m often worried about what they would turn out to be. I don’t want them to become washed-up, drunk, or drugged out.” Miranda hears herself saying. Andy shakes her head, disagreeing to Miranda’s personal assessment of her so-called parenting skills.

“People make mistakes. It’s what we do after we make them that counts.”

“I cannot afford to make mistakes with my children.”

“Because you value them and you love them with all you have. I understand that.”

Miranda’s insides light up with the last statement. Her heart fills with gratitude.

Andy feels the sudden change in emotion and knows she has stricken a chord.

Out of the blue, Miranda embraces her. It is filled with longing, with gratitude, with something dangerously near love, with something that makes Andy’s heart overflow with warmth and joy, with contentment and that something dangerously close to love that is love. She feels immensely happy. She sees Miranda smile at her warmly. She leans over to kiss Miranda when…

The alarm clock strikes five. Andy wakes up, grudgingly, but not before she sees the warm, slender, and ivory-white body near her side. It’s been three years now. The girls are in middle school and Andy has left Dalton for a local newspaper. She still has the Vespa scooter, still wears the designer clothes, and is still close to the Priestly twins.

But something is different.

Three years ago, it had taken her the end of the school year and the girls’ pleading before she returned to the townhouse and confessed in front of Miranda Priestly how much she had grown fond of her. How she waited for her to come at every school event. How delighted she was when she arrived for the parent-teacher conference. How she wanted Miranda to feel safe. How she felt warmth inside her every time she saw her. How she had wished that the girls would always have the waterfall of affection that Miranda would readily give to the girls.

And Miranda listened, eyes glowing, as she recognized the same feeling that she had in front of and in the middle of Andy’s own admission of her love for her. They had kissed in front of the girls, who were proud that this had happened after their own prodding. Since then, they have been inseparable, although it took a year for Andy to move into the townhouse and tell her accepting parents, who have wished her well.

Miranda woke up and looked up at her. She looked especially beautiful in the mornings, Andy thought. She quickly brushed a lock of silver hair from the woman’s face and she caught the woman kissing her hand reverently. The twins were still asleep.

“I suggest you come to work late today.” Miranda said, businesslike.

Andy leaned over and kissed her. It was a long, sweet kiss, made for the mornings. Miranda pulled away and gestured to the closet.

“I also advise that you steer clear of your Gucci jeans. It is moving towards last season at an unusually alarming pace.”

Andy looked at her, amused. “Always the fashionista. I can pick my clothes for myself, thank you, my love.” Miranda blushed at the last two words.

“Will you still be using that dreadful old scooter to get to work?” Miranda now got up, with a hint of annoyance, embracing her from behind and putting her chin on Andy’s shoulder. Andy chuckled delightfully.

“I’m thinking about it. Maybe.”

Miranda breaks off and turns away from her. Andy looks at her, slightly disappointed. She continues her tirade anyway. “I don’t think that’s acceptable. Think of buying a new one. Or perhaps of getting yourself a car.”

“I can’t.”

“That’s ridiculous. You have been compensated well for your writing skills. I don’t see any reason why you should not be able to purchase a new vehicle.”

Andy smiles at this and shakes her head. They’ve been going over that speech about retiring her navy-blue Vespa scooter, and Andy says ‘no’ every single time. Miranda doesn’t appreciate her stubbornness one bit, although on some days, she will be amused by it, and would consider letting go of the subject altogether.

But today is different.

Andy pulls out a small box from her nightgown, takes out its lone content, and moves to Miranda’s side of the bed. Without a word, she slips in the Cartier ring on Miranda’s right ring finger. Miranda looks at her finger, is shocked, and she turns to Andy and kisses her, softly, gently, lovingly. She doesn’t say anything else but Andy knows how happy she is. How happy they are. How happy they will always be.

And she thinks it wouldn’t be too much of a bother if she went to work late today.


End file.
